Dark, Deadly, Dexter
by Tarrbear
Summary: Dexter gets himself involved in tracking down a new killer while a much bigger problem arises. This is a short story I wrote for my creative writing class that I have decided I's like to share.
1. Chapter 1: Difficulties

Disclaimer: I do not own Dexter or any part of it.

Do note that this Dexter is a mix between the book and television Dexter, the story takes place after season four and before season five. A major season four spoiler is mentioned, so please avoid if you haven't seen season four yet.

Chapter One

Difficulties

Night.

Beautiful night.

The time when the moon and stars become illuminated and the darkness sweeps over the city of Miami. It's the time when the little children are tucked away and teenagers are out wreaking havoc somewhere. It's the time of drug deals, gangs, and dark hearts, the dark side of Miami that you don't see during the day. Night is the home of the alcoholics, drug dealers, prostitutes, and the killers. It's also the time for me and the Dark Passenger, my inner companion that is always after control.

I don't associate or compare myself to those people though, no, not them; Dark Demented Dexter is in a league of my own, it's just I and the Dark Passenger, they don't even compare. But we do have one similarity with all of the other night dwellers of Miami, we have needs. We all have one, in the dark side of Miami whether it's looking for their fix, some pleasure, or some money. In the night we can slink around in the dark undetected, craving our deepest desires and fulfilling them. But my need it just a bit different.

My need, well, our need, (the Dark Passenger and I's), needed to be fulfilled. We were itching to be on the hunt, itching for the adrenaline rush, itching to do the dark dance, itching for ritual, for order to the chaos.

But tonight is not the night for ritual, no, not yet. My darker self urged me to pounce now; he seemed to whisper, "_Take it Dexter! Take him now!_" But I don't give into peer pressure; well not until he fits the code. Unfortunately for us, our dear friend Eddie Adder wasn't a perfect fit for the code, not yet. Soon though, soon enough Eddie Adder will be the one bringing me my relief, lying on my table, becoming my temporary release from my darker self.

Ever since the death of Rita, it seems that he has been calling upon me less, it's an odd feeling, perhaps it's the guilt that keeps him away. I've watched over sixty people die, and they all died at my hand and never once did I feel guilt, remorse, nothing like that, just satisfaction.

I remember that night clearly, one of my most vivid memories really. Me and Rita were finally going to take our Honeymoon in Key West, Cody and Astor went to Disney with their Grandparents and Harrison was coming with us. I had to work late so she was to catch a flight and I'd meet her in Key West later in the night. When I walked into the house to prepare to leave called Rita back, she had called earlier and I must have missed it. Turns out she forgot her plane ticket so she was just informing me she had to turn back, no big deal. The moment I hit I heard her phone ring, it was still on her purse in the counter, perhaps she forgot it on her trip back to the house. On the perfect que came the cries of Harrison, confirming Rita had never made it to the airport. That moment caused the air to just leave the room, leaving me with the feeling with dread. Holding my breath I followed the cries of my son straight to the bathroom, the sight was not pleasant. There Harrison was, sitting in a pool of blood; I dropped to my knee's to crawl to him, that's when I saw Rita. Lying in the tub, in her blood that had spilled over the sides and onto the floor. Harrison was covered in his own mother's blood, just like how I was found as a kid, sitting in a pool of my birth mothers blood. Fate was truly unkind.

The sight of my dead wife was different then of all of the other dead bodies I have dealt with, it was a completely new experience for me. No grief, no sadness, none of the normal human feelings when you lose a loved one. Just guilt, guilt that tears me apart inside, making the hole in my heart even bigger, the guilt that I couldn't protect her, Debra keeps insisting that this wasn't my fault, if only she knew. On the contrary is Astor, she hates my guts at the moment, and she's the only one who blames me for her mother's death, Cody doesn't though, he's always been fond of me, he doesn't blame me, I like that about him. Yet Astor is the only one who sees the truth, a young teenage girl, who would ever guess. I keep being told that she'll come around eventually, I hope she does, I really liked the kids. They were one of the few things that kept me attached to humanity, now they live in Orlando with their grandparents. It's been two months since the death of Rita, Cody eagerly awaits my phone calls, Astor still won't talk to me. The only things that keep me in touch with humanity now are my dear sister Debra, and my son Harrison. I can't afford to lose one of them, I fear that without them I will lose control, and the Dark Passenger would have his hands on the wheel 24/7.

The Dark Passenger is scratching though, growing impatient, it wants complete control, and it wants to play, in time dear dark self, in time.


	2. Chapter 2: Eddie

Disclaimer: I do not own Dexter or any part of it.

Do note that this Dexter is a mix between the book and television Dexter, the story takes place after season four and before season five. A major season four spoiler is mentioned, so please avoid if you haven't seen season four yet.

Sorry this update took forever, I kinda forgot that I posted the thing... and what makes it even worse is that this thing has been sitting for months now, just waiting to be read by someone other than my creative writing teacher XD

Chapter Two

Eddie

Ah, there he is, Eddie Adder. He had been under my radar for a few weeks now, I began the investigation when the feelings of my need began to slowly pick at my skin, and as I sit here watching him I feel like I'm a lion stalking his prey, that's how it should always be, hunter and prey. But the difference between me and a lion is that I can't pounce yet, I have to watch and wait.

_Patience Dexter, the relief will come soon. _The Dark Passenger whispered within.

I watched Eddie intently as he climbed into his old banged up black Pontiac, he was heading out to Freddy's Bar, his typical Tuesday and Thursday night activity. From 8:50 pm to midnight Eddie would be at Freddy's, giving me the opportunity to finish my snooping.

He veered left as he pulled out of the driveway. The moment his vehicle was no longer in sight, I slipped out of my SUV that I had discreetly parked on the opposite side of the street only one house away. I pulled the leather gloves onto my hands as I approached his doorway; this place was a mess. I stepped up to the green front door and gave the rusty handle a little twist, and as I expected, locked. But no worry here, a locked door is never a problem for Dexter. Out of my back pocket emerged two little pins, two little pins that in the right hand could unlock any door, and luckily I had the right hands. I slipped them into the keyhole and fumbled with them a bit till I heard that magic click, the one the signaled the door was now unlocked, free for me to enter.

With a grin I stepped inside the house, I expected it to be a reflection or even a exclamation of the outside, the overgrown yard that was like a jungle, rusty hinges and handles, chipped paint, a hideous house indeed. But the inside only revealed that the outside is nothing but a façade, a mask hiding what's under, and in a way like me. The house was immaculate, everything was organized and in its place, the paintings were hung perfectly, not a hair out of place. The place was pristine and spotless, I couldn't help but admire the neatness, he was like me, a neat monster in hiding, but that is where the similarities end.

I have a code, Eddie does not.

You see, Eddie has a thing for teenage girls, especially 15 years old. He'd rape them and then kill them, each victim would be found with the right side of their sleeve gone, it was his trade mark and the sleeves became little trophies. An odd choice for a trophy, but hey, whatever floats your boat. But those sleeves are what I'm on the hunt for tonight. I find his little collection and Eddie's fate is sealed.

Now, where would a monster like Eddie hide his collection of trophies? The bedroom perhaps? Most normal people keep personal stuff in the bedroom, then again, Eddie isn't normal, but it would be worth a try anyways.

His bedroom was an easy find, out of the three doors in the hallway it was the only open door, it was a modest room, nothing too luxurious. The walls were covered in a bleak blue paint and a few pieces of art, the majority of the art in his house was just a bunch of shapes organized into a pattern or just randomly placed, it was all color block art. On each side of the bed is a simple white nightstand, a lamp on one and a clock on the other, on the right wall was a white dresser, directly across on the left wall was a small closet, and above the bed was a window with the curtains drawn. I started my hunt in his closet, rummaging through the little that occupied it, just a few suits and shoes, no secret compartments, no sleeves. Next came the nightstands, then under the bed and under the mattress, and then the dresser, absolutely nothing. Before I left the room I checked to make sure everything was in place and as I found it, getting caught was not a part of my agenda. I then moved to the hallway closet, I stripped the thing apart, removing and checking through everything and once again, no such luck. Oh Eddie Adder, where might your little collection be?

I was starting to run out of time, it was now eleven o'clock; I only had a little less than a hour left before Eddie would pull back into the driveway, and I was still evidence-less. We were growing irritated as we took a quick glance around the bathroom, now to the living room. I decided to start at the bookshelf, I had to start somewhere, as I began to pick it apart piece by piece a painting to the right caught my eye. All it was just a bunch of blocks of all sizes and colors, abstract art that caught my eye, or the Dark Passenger's. I set down the book in my hand and moved towards it, I felt gravitated to the piece of art, drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

No, it couldn't be, it was too obvious, but I had to give it a try. I wrapped my fingers behind the painting, slightly lifting it from the wall, with another tug it was now off the wall and being grasped by leather covered hands. I gave the wall a glance, no secret shelf or safe here. I gently flipped the painting over, bingo.

There it was, right in front of my face, hiding in almost plain sight, his sleeve collection. The sleeves were arranged on the back of the painting to mirror the painting on the front, there were only five sleeves here and I was aware of at least seven victims, where were the rest. With a grin I placed the painting back onto the wall and went across to a similar painting, the same sight greeted my eyes. Except the fact that this painting's mirror was completed on the back by nine sleeve, fourteen trophies, that's double of what I was aware of. _The bedroom._ My Dark Passenger whispered, yes the bedroom, it had a similar painting. I checked the painting in the bedroom to find another completed mirror; this one consisted of seven sleeves. So in total that makes twenty-one victims, twenty-one dead innocent teenagers, the thought of it is quite repulsing, but what makes my stomach turn is the thought that I could have been just like him. If it wasn't for my cop-foster father Harry and his code, I might have turned out just like him. But I had Harry and his code, and that's all that matters.

I hung the painting back up and headed out of the house with a smirk, your fate has been sealed Eddie.

"You're mine now."


End file.
